Even if it was someone who had tormented him for the better part of a month.

  Even if Tlara had advocated for Hunter’s death on multiple occasions.

  Hell, even if he just barely tolerated her now.

  Daniel couldn’t help but be in awe as he watched the Beastmaster’s resurrection. You got used to magic to some degree after a while, it was impossible not to, but bringing someone back from the dead was power on the scale of the gods. And, Tlara was dead. That she still functioned in the world at all was thanks to both her sister and some form of power.

  Now, all it took to bring her back was a level 1 Spirit Master. That was oversimplifying things, but Daniel still didn’t fully believe it would work until he saw Tlara’s chest rise. He was quick to hand Willow a healing potion, marking it the second they’d used mentally, and watched as the restorative elixir steadily repaired the damage to Tlara’s body. Kind of.

  Part of the problem was they only had a stock of level 2 potions, that being good enough to rescue any member of the team in an emergency. Despite Tlara’s unique situation, her monsters weren’t able to benefit from normal potions, and stock of those specifically for dominated monsters was understandably low enough that Soraso must not have bothered. So while, in theory, one potion would be enough for anyone in the group to manage, or in the worst case just take two, they had a reduced effect when used on the newly revived level 3 Beastmaster.

  If that was all there was Daniel would have just handed Willow another with no amount of withering comments later to the Beastmaster about how much they’d used to get her back, but watching the magic at work made it clear it would be more complicated than that. Parts of Tlara certainly healed, but other parts didn’t. Most of the problems arose around the exposed midriff, where the skin and insides at least healed, but there was still a hole going straight through. Smaller than it had been, but still there.

  Also, that eye that had gone bad wasn’t in the best of shapes. Oh, it was still there, but it had lost the almost yellow coloration its twin had. The whites looked more like grays, with veins of black instead of red. It moved, the pupil changed, but still. Creepy as hell.

  He was about to suggest they do something, what he wasn’t sure since the damage stopped healing there while progressing elsewhere, when Tlara began both scrambling and screaming. Daniel had experienced the various tones of the avianoid voice during his time on the Octyrrum, and while this didn’t beat monster-Tak’s sonic attack, it got respectfully close. It could pass as a banshee wail due to the hoarseness present, no doubt there because Tlara’s vocal cords had been rotting and disused for a little while.

  There was a moment’s hesitation as he thought about things he would wish on his worst enemies before he jolted into motion with the rest of his team. “Don’t give her another potion!” he quickly advised, drawing a now panicked look from Willow.

  “What if she needs-“

  “Let’s calm her down first!” If there was ever a time for this, it would be now. Daniel, still running after Tlara who was thrashing around the stadium in no particular direction, put a little magic in his voice that didn’t quite meet the resonance of an incantation. “Tlara, I can tell you’re in there. Calm down. I’m not seeing any negative effects on you, you aren’t cursed or anything.” Not that I saw a curse on Sigron when I first identified him, Daniel thought but didn’t say. “We’ll take you to the Hand’s church as soon as we get out of here.”

  Tlara did pause as Reassure took effect, giving him a moment’s glare with the extremely disturbing heterochromia she’d acquired. Her gaze softened as she inspected herself again, something other than anger and distaste playing out on her face. Daniel was having a hard time telling what it was because of how different Tlara looked when she wasn’t enraged with the world at large. There was still a question of whether her mind had completely survived what she’d been through, though-

  “What the fuck did you do to me!?” Tlara screamed, the words mostly formed correctly as she continually made progress on rehabilitating her voice.

  Daniel blinked, sighed, and let Willow continue towards her sister while he returned to the rift. All yours. Confirmation that the rift could assist in resurrection should have been a triumph that gave him hope while trapped in these ancient, corrupted ruins. Leave it to Tlara to somehow ruin that feeling, though he supposed she had her reasons for being upset.

  Someone else bordering on upset interrupted him from opening the Arcadian app on his phone, which had the same target symbol as the icon. “Hey. What exactly did you mean about ‘having’ a Spoke?”

  Daniel was beginning to reconsider his decision to let Shuni in on one of his bigger secrets. To be fair, it was public knowledge to anyone with the means to find out that he’d both defeated Casia by summoning a lightning storm, something beyond his level even if within the scope of mortal prowess, and had been spirited away soon after by Hammer. If that wasn’t enough, Soraso had handpicked him to lead a team into the ruins. Oh, and I’m an Artificer, which is honestly now one of the least impressive things about me.

  The point was anyone like Claret Sosa already had every reason to look into him. Given how religious the Octyrrum was as a whole, it might even be a good thing if the incorrect rumor of him being an Incarnate got leaked. Though, he wasn’t keen on spreading it, he was just done with hiding pertinent information from people risking their lives for his quest. Shuni was cool, and she’d taken a leap of faith coming here.

  “What I said.”

  “And everyone knew about this insignificant detail besides me?”

  “Well, Sigron didn’t.” They both looked at the Knight, who just shrugged and gestured around them with open arms while the last parts of his armor got fixed. One of the illusory hands actually patted the side when it was done, as if the owner had just finished putting up a shed.

  “Ok.” Shuni nodded, reading Sigron’s point about taking things in stride. “Ok. But what does that mean?”

  “Short story, everything cool about it is locked down and I only get a few things like being immune to the corruption and taking over astral rifts.” Daniel jerked his thumb towards the portal to the afterlife behind him that he now owned. “It isn’t anything I ever wanted, and I’d give it up if I could.”

  “But…” The Rogue was having trouble with his nonchalance and took a few moments to articulate her concern. It seemed like she couldn’t honestly believe he was telling her what he was. Over her shoulder, Daniel saw Willow hug Tlara but resisted the urge to reactivate Keen Senses to spy on them. He was fine giving Tlara back some heat for her prior sins but drew the line at becoming an asshole himself. “So, what, you’re just a Spoke? The only one I’ve ever seen cuts holes in space.”

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  “Merged with one,” Daniel emphasized. His eyes lit on the Arcadian app again and he sighed. “I get how much of a mind trip that is to think about, believe me, but right now I need to make sure a murderous avianoid isn’t about to go on a rampage. Also, that whoever was on that train car can’t pop in here.”

  Shuni shook her head, a contrarian smile on her face that broke when she took a sip of something from a flask with some kind of flute attached to work with beaks. “Just another day with Wingcraft I guess. Is she really that bad?”

  “I kind of preferred when she was stuck being a monster.”

  …

  Willow stopped a few strides short of Tlara, who had collapsed into one of the rows of benches surrounding this strange, enclosed space. She’d always had a partial understanding of how Tlara was feeling after forming their bond, but that had all gone away when her sister returned from the dead. The bond was still there, but it felt… wavy. Uncertain. Just as she was as to Tlara’s wellbeing.

  She saw all the damage Daniel had on her sister’s poorly clothed body, the decision having previously been made to leave her in the state she’d been in when she died in case that affected anything. Not that Tlara was currently indecent, but she needed a shower, a fresh set of clothes, and to regrow over half of her feathers. Someone falling down the stairs of a Spire from the eye to the first floor landing would arrive better looking than Tlara did right now.

  Her presence went unchallenged, Tlara instead holding herself while staring at the ground. She didn’t miss how the crossed arms covered the hole that remained in her. Willow’s voice caught in her throat unexpectedly as she tried to speak up. She’d been able to talk to her sister this entire time, but now, face to face, it was different.

  What should she ask? ‘How are you?’ was just not right. Neither did she feel comfortable getting any closer without Tlara letting her. “Why didn’t she kill me?”

  Tlara’s head rose at the question that slipped out, the maimed eye holding a steady gaze despite the unhealed damage to it. “What?” With just the simple word Willow sensed the turmoil in Tlara. She was shaken, distraught. Her sister hid so much behind layers of sarcasm and naked aggression that she was shocked by the emotional honesty revealed in a moment of being caught off guard.

  “Our mother,” Willow explained, having dug too deep to take back the topic now. It was the last thing they should be talking about, but here they were. “She knocked me out. Daniel said there was a plan to bring us back as those sand creatures, but she knocked me out instead of killing me when you were showing me Spinner.”

  “How the fuck should I know?” Tlara bared fangs coated with that old, familiar venom, though there was no strength behind the bite. At the very least, she’d screamed herself hoarse. She raised a hand to point at Willow for emphasis, the other arm still covering her stomach. “You think I’m as crazy as her, is that it? That I’d understand why she betrayed fucking everything she knew?”

  “I thought, maybe, she’d said something?” Willow hung her head. “I’d been working with her for years, but all she told me was lies. With you, maybe she told you something she hadn’t mentioned on the Eye?”

  “Fuck you,” Tlara put succinctly. “Fuck this bullshit. I die, come back, and that’s what you ask me?”

  “I just… we’re all that’s left. I don’t know what to say.” Willow had built up a tolerance to Tlara’s nature over her years of arguing before her departure, but the moment was too charged for her to remain level. Wisp had retreated further into her Spirit Vault, sensing the emotional upset. “I’m glad you’re alive,” Willow said, voice wavering as she reflected those should have been the first words out of her beak. “Gods, Tlara, you died. If this hadn’t worked-“

  “You call this living?” Tlara held up the accusatory arm in front of her face, taking note of the bald patches and areas of withered skin. The arm fell to her side as the Beastmaster slumped slightly. “Guess it’s better than fucking nothing.”

  That, coming from Tlara, sounded like a reprieve. It was how Willow knew there was something deeply wrong. She took a seat by Tlara, the move uncontested. “Let me see.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “It’s just me here, Tlara.” Willow grew truly concerned when her steadying hand placed around her sister wasn’t slapped away or scratched at. “You’re hurting. Gods, you just came back from the dead. You were trapped in strange bodies for so long, even if we both know how much you like the wyvern.”

  “Now that’s broken to Crest too,” Tlara hissed, looking away.

  “We can get another one. Threst has some native wyverns. Anything you like.” She leaned in close to where avianoids hid their earholes behind feathers. “You weren’t a good person to me, Tlara. You were abusive, vindictive, and you left without saying a word to me. You can’t blame it all on Mother’s death because it started before that. I don’t know what it was, but-“

  “You don’t?” Tlara scoffed, breaking Willow’s hold and scooting to the side. “’ Willow’? You know why he named you that, right? It’s a human adjacent name, as if having human blood in our family wasn’t enough already. You were the fucking golden child, manufactured by Dad for mass public appeal after he worked out the kinks in his child rearing with the first one. Do you really think old Silver Eye’s first daughter would have accidentally awakened a class if he gave a shit about her?”

  “He wasn’t planning for either of us to take over for him,” Willow objected. “He was trying to break up the noble houses and reform Aughal’s government.”

  “Yeah, after Mom died, maybe.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t fucking matter. He got his heart clawed out, and from what I hear, Mom got the crap beaten out of her by an idiot and an oversized sword. They’re gone, and neither of them are coming back, so let’s just burn it all down and leave it in the past where it belongs.”

  “Not everything,” Willow replied firmly. “We have each other, Tlara. If you despise everything else about our family, fine.” Willow took in a deep breath and said what her cutting preamble was meant to be followed by before Tlara had interrupted her. “But I don’t want to lose you again. I love you. Do you know how hard it was on me to carry your soul?” Tlara started to say something, but Willow spoke over her. “I had your life in my hands, maybe more than that! Not once did I ever think to do anything other than what was right for you. I don’t know what you’re feeling right now, the pain or the trauma, but I am here for you, even if you wouldn’t be for me. I’m here, Tlara.”

  Her sister was silent for a time after that, and then, finally, she revealed the core of her strife. “There’s a fucking hole in me, Willow.” Her hands came away slightly from her stomach, though they angled to prevent anyone else from seeing it. “There’s parts of me that feel like they’ve been left out in the sun for weeks. My eye…” She closed them for a moment. “I can still see, but I know it’s wrong. And I have a hole in me.”

  “We’ll take you to the church of the Hand,” Willow assured, rubbing a hand on Tlara’s back. “Nothing’s been cut off or burned badly. You just need some specialized healing.”

  “There’s a hole. In me,” Tlara replied ardently. “Can I eat right, drink? Will I just fucking starve because half of my gut is gone? C-“ Whatever she was about to say was cut off as her voice broke, and Willow noticed tears springing from her sister’s eyes. It seemed the damage hadn’t deprived her of that, at least.

  She drew closer, sensing Tlara might be more emotionally vulnerable right now than she ever would be. “Tell me.”

  “Can I have kids after this?” It was the last thing she could have expected. Perhaps the first thing she should have thought of, seeing where the wound was. Her parents had given her an excellent education growing up, and Tlara had gotten the same.

  The question hit her harder than anything ever had in her life. A 15 meter long half-spider had run her through not an hour ago and six words from her sister had her reeling more. It made her question everything she thought she knew about Tlara, if only because the question was so heartbreakingly earnest. “I didn’t know you wanted…”

  Tlara’s voice was small, broken. “I have no fucking clue if I do, but I didn’t want the choice ripped out of me.”

  “I-“ What could she say to that? For the first time Tlara had said something that had left Willow fully speechless. She’d only been an adult for a year or so, and those matters were the last thing on her mind. There was always more time, especially now that she was Blessed, and enhanced endurance would keep her young for far longer. Tlara more so given her level advantage, only, even those at her level could get permanent injuries.

  Willow embraced her sister, failing to find any other action reasonable in the face of her sister’s pain and anguish. Tlara did briefly attempt to fight her off, but she only hurt herself. Willow held her, covering her wounds. Eventually, Tlara accepted the kind gesture and the two sat there in each other’s arms. Their bond growing ever deeper.